Batman Awakened
by JuhFreak
Summary: A PG-13 cyberpunk film. Terry is a little older, and the mystery is more complicated than it first appears. Would really appreciate any constructive criticism you have to offer!
1. Cold Open

The past.

We open on the skyline of Gotham. The setting sun is distorted by smog. As we push in, we observe the city's ethereal, timeless atmosphere – sweeping gothic architecture, cars with hover capability, futuristic structures towering over the foundations of the original city. A bat-like shadow glides across the rooftops, rushing toward a Wayne Enterprises laboratory building. We nearly see the source of the shadow, but instead, we plunge into the darkness of the window.

Cut to Chloe Clay, an attractive young woman in shackles and a prison uniform. She's in her late twenties, possibly with a blend of Asian and Caucasian heritage. A small group of prison guards and Wayne Enterprises security guards are ushering her through a dimly lit corridor. She is led into a lab with a very high ceiling – mostly empty of personnel, as it's late in the evening – and then led to a cluster of scientists waiting next to a gurney equipped with restraints. Clay stops right next to this gurney.

Looking up, Clay can see Derek Powers, roughly thirty-five years old, observing her through a window.

The lead scientist holds forth a computer tablet so that Clay can read it. "The money has been transferred to your daughter's trust fund."

Clay nods tautly. The tablet is withdrawn. As her shackles are removed and she is strapped into the gurney, the scientist continues, "Once again, you understand that Wayne Enterprises has no knowledge of these experiments and no intention of manufacturing—"

"If I open my mouth, the money is gone," Clay interrupts. She's clearly nervous. "Yes, we've been over it."

They've finished strapping her in. The guards step back as lab assistants prepare EKG equipment. Another prepares an injection. A tense silence has fallen over the room. From somewhere above, there is a slight _creak._

Batman plummets from the ceiling. He immediately engages the prison guards, destroying their guns. It's glorious. Flawless. Too easy. He tosses his cape to ensnare another guard, pull him forward, and then knee him in the face. There are only two guards still conscious when one of Batman's knees suddenly gives out. He's doubled over in pain. The guards hesitate for only a moment before they assail him brutally.

Batman is still conscious, but weak. The guards drag him to another gurney and strap him in, tilting it vertically. A scientist holding a special tablet stands facing Batman. The tablet is a heart monitor. "He has the pulse of a tired old man," the scientist announces, giving Batman an almost amused look. "So you're human after all."

Above, Derek Powers reaches for a button we can't see, and there's the crackle of a P.A. system. "Get the mask off."

Batman is strangely compliant as a guard reaches around the back of his head for the seam in his mask. The guard is electrocuted. As he falls to the floor, moaning, another guard picks up a chair with metal legs. He strikes Batman across the face with it. The mask remains intact. The guard tries again. Batman pulls at his restraints. There is a faint creaking as if they may eventually break.

Clay reclines in the gurney, looking a bit worried, maybe wondering why Batman is trying to stop this experiment. With each brutal blow to the vigilante's head, she cringes.

The guards continue to brutalize Batman. In the foreground, the lead scientist sends a questioning look to Derek Powers, then nods to his associates to continue prepping Clay. Speaking into a camera, he says, "This is the first human trial of mutagen 1808." He swabs her arm and lowers the needle to a vein. "Administering first injection."

Batman's point of view. Things are blurry, shaky. We see the chair swing, and then things go black momentarily. We see Powers watching from the window.

A close shot of Batman's right arm. The restraint snaps, and immediately he delivers a powerful punch to the guard with the chair. He reaches for the restraint on his left arm while leaning forward to see what's happening to Clay.

The injection has been administered. Clay lays her head down again, but her pulse is quickening. "I feel strange," she says, her voice shaking.

Batman frees himself. He lunges forward, still limping slightly, and grabs the lead scientist by the collar. "Stop the experiment!"

The man is calm. "Without the second injection," he says, "she'll die."

Chloe sends him a panicked look. Batman hesitates, unsure if it's the truth.

"Do something!" Chloe screams.

"Save her," Batman growls.

"Second injection!"

Chloe weeps softly as the second injection is administered. Before the syringe is quite empty, she chokes, spitting up a clumpy, black liquid. Her eyes roll toward the scientists.

"It's working," says the lead.

"What did you do to her?" Batman shouts.

One of Chloe's arms is somehow free from the restraint. She stares in shock as her proportions distort slightly. Then, with increasingly elongated fingers, she reaches for the nearest person, screaming in terror. She's melting. Her whole body convulses, and she seems to drip upward, _against_ gravity, arcing in nightmarish shapes.

A guard tazes Batman in the back of the neck.


	2. Opening Credits

Opening credits over interior old Wayne Manor. It's dusty. White sheets cover the furniture. In a study, we see a window broken from the outside. The room has been systematically looted, and a grandfather clock stands aside for a secret passage.

Opening credits continue over the abandoned Batcave. Some of the lights flicker. Others are altogether burnt out. A layer of grime clouds the glass display cases, making it harder for us to discern which supervillain costume is being displayed. There is a prominent row of such cases for the Nightwing, Robin, and Batgirl suits. One of the cases is empty. It's been smashed.

The music and credits wind down as we close in on a wide computer monitor displaying the news. A news anchor very much in uncanny valley drones indistinctly while the ticker tape reads, _MOUNTING TENSION ALONG KASNIA BORDER._ Silhouetted against the light of the screen, old Bruce Wayne sits hunched in a chair.

Bruce is in his eighties, but under his loose clothing we can see traces of what was once a very powerful build. The dim light should also contour a powerful jawline. He is not watching the news. He's watching, glaring at, someone to his left.

Terry McGinnis is shirtless, athletic, but lean. He's examining the bruises along his ribcage. He does not meet Bruce's gaze, his expression obstinate and resentful.

"What were you thinking?" Bruce demands. His voice is low, but intimidating.

Terry is stubbornly silent.

Turning to the computer, Bruce closes the news window and brings up a mug shot of Terry. He's in his early teens in this photo, sullen and scared. Bruce reads the rap sheet. "Terry McGinnis. Nineteen years old. Affiliated with a gang called the T's. Detained for public altercations with the Jokerz gang, arrested for breaking and entering. No high school diploma." Bruce turns back to Terry. "I'll ask again. More clearly this time. What makes someone like you think that he can wear the mantle of the Batman, even for one night?"

Terry rolls his eyes. "It's not about your precious _mantle,"_ he sneers.

"I assumed you were a fool when you never asked for ransom money—"

"I got busy," Terry snaps.

Bruce pauses. His tone is less harsh now. "I know about your father. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Everyone's sorry."

"The police suspect you."

"Well, I didn't do it."

"I know. I read the coroner's report."

Terry looks at him curiously.

"It was filed early this morning. They don't have a murder weapon. And there is evidence that most of the damage was done post-mortem." More softly, almost gently, Bruce explains, "He was smothered … from the inside."

It's a long, drawn-out moment before Terry comprehends these words. Bewildered, he turns away. His eyes mist over. Then he loses his temper, knocking over a tray of first aid supplies. "You don't get to act superior! Years before I was even born, Batman just stopped showing up. People figured, 'He must have died.' Turns out you've been rotting in this mansion the whole time. What, were you trying to count all your money?"

Bruce's eyes narrow a bit, but he will not be baited.

"The T's might rip off people like you. But when you're with the T's, you belong somewhere. You know what it's like to grow up alone?"

Bruce arches a brow. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, your parents died and made you a billionaire. Boo-fragging-hoo. My parents left to go work their asses off for no pay. Growing up at my dad's house, it was just me and my friend Charlie."

"Your friend from the T's."

Terry winces. Charlie seems to be a sore subject. "Would have been, only we never finished initiations. We were together the night we got busted... I was sentenced to six months. Charlie did three years _._ Only just got out. Figure I owe him _something_ for that."

"What does Charlie _know?"_

Terry looks away, setting his jaw. Softly, he says, "He was the lookout the night I robbed you. We were gonna get into the T's for real this time. But he didn't see…"


	3. Flashback

Fade to an interior abandoned subway station. It's the headquarters of the T's. There are dancers, video games and pool tables, but we are focused on the leather couches. With Charlie Bigalow nearby, Terry is standing in front of a coffee table and dumping out a bag of stolen loot. He also has a backpack slung over one shoulder.

The rest of the gang – full-fledged members with shaved heads and red T's painted over their faces – rifle through the goods. There are watches, awards, antique daggers, all sorts of knick-knacks you might find in an old billionaire's mansion, but most importantly, a lot of cred cards.

Fat T comes up behind them, throwing one burly arm around Terry, another around Charlie. "Nice work, boys. You two survive the raid on the Jokerz tomorrow, you'll be full-fledged members."

Fat T moves on, but Charlie leans toward Terry with a meaningful nod toward the female gang members. "With full benefits."

"I have a girlfriend, Charlie." Terry moves toward the exit.

"What Dana doesn't know … Hey!" Charlie jogs after him. Lowering his voice, he indicates to Terry's backpack with a worried expression. "You aren't dumb enough to hold out on Fat T, are you?"

"What, this?" Terry opens the backpack and swiftly shows him a flash of the Batman mask, then tucks it away again. "Just something I bought for my baby brother this morning."

"Right…" Charlie nods, but as Terry walks past him, he gets a confused and suspicious look. "Okay…"

Time jump.

Terry is in his bedroom, filming himself in a ski mask. "That's a very interesting basement you have, Mr. Wayne. And I almost didn't find it, but I'm so glad I did." He turns the camera to film the Batsuit laid out on his bed. "Bet a lot of people would be interested in buying this. Buying information about its owner." He turns the camera back on himself. "I want two million a month for the rest of my life."

Time jump.

Terry is pulling off the ski mask. He grabs a drink out of the fridge. The black pit bull at his side suddenly starts barking. The front door opens, and his father walks in without saying hello, throws down his keys and wallet, then walks straight into the office and shuts the door. Terry finishes his drink. The dog trailing after him, he removes a cred card from his father's wallet and takes the keys.

Time jump.

Terry is in a car with his younger girlfriend, Dana Tan. The dog is leashed in the back. As they pull into the driveway of a beautiful, upscale condo, Terry grins and leans toward Dana. She kisses him, giddy. The driver's door is yanked open. Mr. Tan jerks Terry out by his collar. "Get your hands off my teenaged daughter, pervert!"

Dana is shouting at her father as she jumps out of the car. The dog is barking viciously, trapped in the back seat. Terry breaks loose. The two men are circling each other. Terry is trying to side-step back toward the car. "She's seventeen. We're in the same class—"

"And exactly how many times are they gonna let you repeat the twelfth grade? What's it take to get expelled these days?"

"Dad, he's not in the gang anymore!" Dana yells.

Mr. Tan ignores her. "You touch her again, I'll have you arrested for statutory rape!"

Terry is midway through repeating, "She's seventeen," when Mr. Tan pushes him hard against the car. Terry loses his temper, bends the man's hand back to free himself, and delivers a brutal blow to his face. Mr. Tan falls to the pavement.

"Terry, stop!" Dana screams. She stands apart from both men, horrified.

Terry doesn't look at her. He knows he's screwed up. He's also still furious. He climbs back into the driver's seat of his father's car. "I'm sorry," he mutters.

Mr. Tan shouts, "Going to meet up with the T's?"

Terry is starting the car. With a rebellious tone, he says, "Yeah, actually."

"You said you were done with them!" Dana shouts. The car is backing up. She lunges forward and kicks the front bumper. "You _bastard!"_

Terry's point of view. As Terry pulls away from the condo, we see Dana starting to cry, her father suddenly tender as he comforts her. Terry curses under his breath and drives away.

Time jump. He's in the inner city now. Neon lights all around. Color washing over the dark interior of the car. We hear a recorded message: "Hey, it's Charlie. Rumble with the Jokerz goes down in an hour, man. Where are you? Call me back, man." Terry keeps driving.

Time jump. Terry is parked on the corner of a rundown street. He's just staring straight ahead. In the back seat, the dog looks nervous, growls softly.

Down the block, he can see smoke pouring from a boarded-up building. Kids in gaudy, creepy clown outfits are pouring into the street, armed with crude weapons. A few T's are chasing after them. The fight is brutal. We notice Charlie, a red T painted over his face. He's being beaten on the head and back with a two-by-four. Nails jut out of the board's end.

In the car, a look of anguished guilt is etched on Terry's face. He moves to get out. The phone in his hand rings. He hesitates. Dana's picture is on the screen.

Terry takes another look at the fight. Then he tosses the phone aside and runs toward Charlie.

He takes out the Jokerz member easily enough. Most of the action has moved away from Charlie. Terry drags him to a nearby alley and examines his face. Charlie is unconscious and already swelling. We hear sirens – police and ambulances rushing toward the scene – and Terry turns, perhaps considering again whether he should stay or run.

He flags down the ambulance. Trying to act innocent, he says, "That guy over there really needs some help!"

As the EMT's rush toward Charlie, Terry retreats back to his car and roars away.

On the road, he's still clearly conflicted. He hits the steering wheel and curses manically under his breath.

Arriving at a residential street, he is forced to slow. A crowd of neighbors is blocking his path. Beyond them are squad cars. Terry parks in the middle of the street, climbing out, pressing forward, his dazed expression growing more panicky. A neighbor can be overheard saying, "I didn't hear _anything!"_

Terry approaches the yellow tape. From this distance, we can see a beaten-in door and some graffiti on the interior walls. "I live there," he says softly. A beat cop moves to hold him back, and he raises his voice. "I live there! My dad's in there!"

The look on the cop's face says it all. Warren McGinnis is dead.

Cut to black.


	4. Flashback, Part II

We see Terry sitting listlessly on a couch. He's dressed for a funeral. So is his mother, Mary, seated to his right, and his young brother, Matt, seated to his left. In a time lapse, we see other mourners moving around them, interacting with Mary and Matt. Terry seems to exist outside of time.

We hear voices from another scene: "I'm Detective Lopez. This is Detective Mariano. We'd like to ask you some questions, if you don't mind."

Terry's voice is raw and dull. "Sure."

"You're a teenager? Is that right?"

"Yeah."

"When I was your age, I spent a lot of nights out on the town, enjoying the city. You like to do that?"

"Sure."

"You go out often?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"Don't have any money."

"But you did _that_ night, didn't you? The night your dad died? You had your dad's money."

"What are you saying?"

The time lapse slows. Everyone around Terry gradually fades away. He is alone.

The dog approaches and nuzzles his hand. He reacts sluggishly. As he strokes the animal's head, some emotion seems to awaken in him. Tears fill his eyes and we fade to black.

Fade in on Terry driving on a sunny morning. He has the dog in the back seat again, his brother in the passenger seat. They ride in perfect silence. Pulling up at a middle school, Terry turns to Matt, awkwardly using sign language as if he cannot quite remember how: _Don't make too many friends in there._ Matt flips him off, jumps out of the car, and slams the door.

Back at his mother's apartment, Terry is unlocking the door when the dog starts to growl at it. Terry is perplexed. The door looks undamaged. Suspicious, he eases it open. The dog lunges in, pulling at its leash, racing around the apartment in a frenzy. Moving boxes are scattered everywhere as if someone has been ransacking them. Terry looks down at the trashed box at his feet. It reads, _Dad's Stuff._

The dog has calmed down now, sniffing the floor, but it's still whining, agitated. Terry flinches when the door opens behind him. His mother walks in, presumably ending some night shift. "What did that dog do now?"

Terry says nothing. He's trying to figure out what happened.

"Did you at least get Matt to school?" she asks, kicking off her shoes.

"Yeah," he mumbles.

"Good. I'm going to bed. There's a message blinking on the fridge, will you check it?"

In the kitchen, Terry swipes a holographic image off the surface of the refrigerator. It's now floating in his hand, semi-transparent. As he reads it, an incredulous look sweeps over him.

Cut to Terry locking himself in his bedroom. He unpacks the Batman suit and spreads it across the bed. The black material is faded, dusty. There are burn marks. A few seams are torn. When Terry lifts the boots, they look heavy. He plays with the retractable blades on the wrist gauntlet.

A wider shot reveals him wearing most of the suit. He turns back for the last component of the suit: the cape. Terry picks it up for a moment, then tosses it back on the bed. "Nah."

We cut to a grand exterior shot of the Wayne-Powers Industries building. It's monumental, a blend of eastern and western architecture. Hovering limousines and police cars race in the misty air overhead. Terry, wearing street clothes over the suit, looks up at the monolith, self-consciously adjusting his jacket to hide the Batman cowl beneath it.

Interior waiting room. Terry waits outside the door. The plaque reads, _Derek Powers, CEO._ The secretary, an extremely cold-looking woman, turns to Terry without warning and states, "Mr. Powers will see you now."

Terry stands and approaches the door. When he opens it, however, he does not find an office. He finds a long corridor of white light and Plexiglas walls. The door closes behind him. Setting his jaw, Terry goes down the tunnel until he finds himself in a plastic cube.

An automated voice: "Please raise your arms."

Terry complies. A light mist fills the cube, dampening his hair and clothes. Annoyed, he wipes his eyes, but the stuff doesn't seem to be doing anything to him. The floor beneath his feet suddenly begins moving, and he's lifted into Powers' office.

The entire office has a feng shui vibe, with bubbling water fountains in every corner, but it nevertheless looks like a bullet-proof fortress. Derek Powers stands in front of an oversized desk. He is a smooth, distinguished man in his fifties. There is always a self-satisfied smile on his face. He offers Terry a towel. "Thank you for coming, Terry."

"What _was_ that?" Terry asks, drying his face and hair.

"Your father never mentioned that his boss is a neat freak?"

Terry shrugs.

Powers continues, "I wanted to offer you my condolences."

"Thanks," Terry says sourly, wearily. "Can I go now?"

"Please…" Powers motions to a chair. Sighing, Terry seats himself. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but I was under the impression that you lived alone with your father…"

"Yeah?"

"What was his last day like?"

Sardonically, Terry says, "Well, let's see. He worked late. Then he came home and got murdered."

Instead of sitting, Powers is leaning against his desk. "After the crime, as you were packing to leave, did you find anything work-related?"

Terry glares at Powers. "Why don't you ask whoever ransacked his stuff this morning?"

Powers arches a brow at this. He's holding something back. "I understand this is a painful time for you. I don't want to make it any more difficult, and I certainly don't want to sully his memory with unsubstantiated accusations."

"Is that your best threat?" Terry retorts.

"I'm not threatening you. I'm offering you an opportunity. Your mother works two jobs, your brother – he was _born_ deaf, wasn't he? Back in my day, we had government programs that paid to fix those things, but now…"

Terry is seething, fists knotted. "You expect me to believe you'd _pay_ me to find out whatever it is my dad knew? Instead of just doing what you did to him?"

Powers is still smiling. "I didn't kill your father. But if I'd known what he was up to, I _would have."_ He moves around the desk and seats himself. "Consider my offer. In the meantime I hope, for your sake, that whoever did it doesn't come back for _you."_

Cut to Terry is storming out of Powers' office, out of the waiting room. He finds a closet to hide in. He removes the Batsuit gloves from his pockets, then removes his street clothes. Most of the suit is still underneath them. Smoothing back his hair, he pulls on the mask, which snaps to fit the shape of his brow and nose. A close shot shows lenses whiting out his eyes and rotating as if to artificially improve his vision. He attaches a gas mask that covers his mouth. Now every inch of him is hidden.

Cut to a close shot of another door with a plaque: _Warren McGinnis._ It's pushed open, revealing a depressing little office. We can see Terry in the Batman suit reflected in the computer monitor. He steps into the room, pokes around, doesn't find much. There is, however, a second door with a very powerful-looking lock.

Terry punches the lock and it falls to pieces. He flexes his hand and whispers, "Nice." He's impressed with the suit's capabilities.

The door opens to a dimly lit corridor with windows on either side. Terry leans against the wall and peers through a window. It overlooks a laboratory. A half dozen cages and terrariums are scattered across the tables – hosting wasted remains. We can only really make out ribs. The employees are taking off their gear, throwing down their tablets, trickling toward the exit. It's the end of a work day.

Terry startles as the door at the opposite end of the corridor opens. A burly guard steps through and freezes. Terry rushes him, delivers a few sound punches to the face –

The man wilts, unconscious, his nose crushed and bleeding. Terry fumbles to catch him and lower him to the floor. "Whoa," he whispers. The mask distorts his voice. "Sorry."

Down in the lab, Terry gets a closer look at the rotted test animals. He taps a nearby screen, selecting a video labeled _Mutagen 3549, Test 74._

It's footage of a dummy wearing combat gear in a glass cube. A greenish gas is pumped in. The armor melts.

He selects the next video, _Mutagen 3549, Test 75._

In this test, a healthy pig is exposed to the gas. It twitches in surprise, then starts struggling, breathing heavily. Though it is still alive, its flesh blackens and begins to melt off, exposing sinew, then bone. We only see the final stages reflected in Terry's white eyes.

There is a faint clattering. Terry crouches low and jumps onto the wall. He seems to stick for a moment, long enough to twist and jump to a steel beam stretching across the ceiling.

Something black and shiny snakes across one of the distant work tables. Then it weaves over to a closer one, picking through the tools and gadgets.

From his perch in the ceiling, Terry can't quite make the thing out. Hanging onto the beam with one hand, he taps the side of his mask with another. From his point of view, we can see his visor zoom in on the thing. It's a dark, oily liquid, feeding in from a grate in the floor. The stream thinning, it converges into a more and more feminine shape. Inque is perusing the same videos Terry was watching a moment before.

Terry nearly loses his grip on the beam. Though he catches himself, he fails to do so silently. Inque whirls. She sees him. He twists around to run across the beam, but she transforms again, whipping herself onto the beam and knocking him to the floor below. She peers down at him with one seriously creepy eye.

Motioning as if to surrender, Terry slowly climbs to his feet. "I'm guessing neither of us is supposed to be here," he says. He taps the side of his head.

Terry's point of view. As he's tapping, he's scrolling through a list of suit functions.

Inque forms a long, spindly limb. It morphs into a blade, which she pulls back, aiming at him.


	5. Final Flashback

Inque forms a long, spindly limb. It morphs into a blade, which she pulls back, aiming at him.

In the same moment, Terry throws a grenade at her and activates the rocket boots. As he shoots toward the ceiling, the grenade goes off, and Inque splatters in all directions. Terry grabs the underside of a beam and activates the camouflage feature. He disappears.

Terry's POV: In the bottom right corner of his vision, something flashes, _ONLINE._ Then we hear Bruce's voice: " _There_ you are."

Glitching noises. Terry comes back into focus. His joints freeze up, and he finds himself slipping from the beam. Silent at first, he plummets onto a steel chemical drum, denting the lid so badly that he falls in. It's empty. Groaning from pain and effort, Terry attempts to move. He can't.

Cut to the Batcave. Bruce is leaning on the dusty computer terminal, and he looks furious. "I knew it was only a matter of time before you activated the suit," he's saying coolly. "Did you think I would fail to install inhibitors?"

Back at the lab, the scattered puddles of Inque begin moving. They're converging again. She twists into a fifteen-foot-tall monstrosity, turning this way and that until she notices the damaged drum.

In the Batcave, Bruce can see everything Terry is seeing, especially Inque's pale, round eye looming overhead. Recognition dawns and, for a moment, Bruce is in disbelief. Then he hurriedly hits a button. "Move!"

Terry leaps up as Inque surges down on him. With an automated noise, batarangs slip from his wrist gauntlets and into his hands. He slashes wildly, fighting his way through Inque, out of the bin, across the lab. One of her limbs grabs a hold of him. He activates the rocket boots again, and we hear a scream as the blast vaporizes a piece of her. Terry slams into the wall.

In the windowed corridor above, an employee looks down at the scene, panics, and pulls a fire alarm.

Flashing lights. Blaring noise. Inque is already in a frenzy, turning to go, when the sprinklers come on. We hear a frightened cry as she slips into an air duct and disappears.

Terry breathes heavily, leaning against the wall, as the sprinklers soak him.

Through the radio, Bruce asks, "Why are you in a Wayne-Powers building?"

We hear the sound of an automated door. Pan over to armed and armored guards. Pan back to Terry slipping through another doorway.

He sets off a locking system that would make any bank jealous. As he charges down the hallway, he says, "Just get me out of here and I'll give you your suit back!"

Bruce doesn't answer. Terry rounds a corner and meets a guard with an automatic rifle. A few shots graze the suit. As he blindly throws himself over a walkway, he blindly throws some batarangs. They don't do much.

Terry crushes a few plants and scrambles to hide amongst others. He appears to be in a greenhouse. Looking up, however, he sees there is no skylight ceiling, only sunlamps.

Bruce speaks. "All right, kid. Get to a window. Once you enter free-fall, the cape should automatically form a glider—"

Terry hisses, as quietly as he can through the pain, "I'm not _wearing_ the cape!" No answer. "Wayne?"

He can hear the guards talking. He activates camouflage again. We can barely see a ripple as he crouches low. Terry's POV. There are a few guards nearby. In the bottom-left corner of his visor, we see the warning: _BATTERY LOW._

We see a ripple as Terry turns to retreat deeper into the plants. He appears in flickers as the camouflage fails. We hear the echoing voice of a guard: "Hey, what's that?"

Inque surges out of a ventilation shaft. She knocks one man over, picking another up and smashing him against the wall. As she stretches across the room, the other guards fire at her, but her body more or less absorbs the blasts. Still, she's clearly uncomfortable, twisting and morphing to avoid them until she can slip under a door.

"What was _that?"_ a guard cries.

Another is opening the automated door. "Just kill it!"

On the other end of the room, Terry is sneaking toward a different exit. A straggler guard sees him and fires. Some of the shots glance across Terry's torso, and he falls, wounded. The guard comes closer, shouting, "I got one!"

He peers down at Terry. "It looks like a Batman copycat—"

Terry springs up, grabbing the gun and punching the guard with more than the necessary force. He's fighting like the street kid he is, ruthlessly, gracelessly. As the guard collapses and Terry retreats into a hallway with the gun, we hear Bruce's incensed voice: "Stop what you're doing!"

A thundering blast. We see fire and smoke erupting in the greenhouse. Again, the sprinklers come on. Terry comes closer to see something outside has made a hole in the wall. It advances through the mist: the new Batmobile, a glistening black hovercar.

Bruce speaks tersely. "Drop the gun and get in."

After hesitating a moment, Terry drops the gun. The Batmobile hatch slides back. He charges forward and jumps into the cockpit. "How do I fly this thing?" he asks as the hatch closes.

"You've done enough," Bruce growls.

Automated restraints adjust tightly around Terry's wounded torso, and he grunts in pain.

A shot from outside the Batmobile as the guards fire on it. The shots have little effect as the Batmobile rises into the air, spins around, and exits through the hole in the wall.

The car races over the city, dodging obstacles and making sharp turns with calculated accuracy. It's only moments before a few flying police cars give chase.

"They're playing my theme song," Terry snarls.

Silence from Bruce. The Batmobile shoots into a parking garage. It races through level after level, the G-force pinning Terry to one side of the cockpit.

"Thought you were going to give me up," Terry says.

"Those aren't police," Bruce replies. "They're on Derek Powers' payroll."

Trying to predict where the Batmobile will be next, the police cars head for the bottom level of the parking garage. The Batmobile pulls a 180 and darts back the way it came.

"This won't stop them for long!" Terry says.

Again, silence from Bruce. Through the windshield, Terry watches the city rush under him. They're headed for the coast. The Batmobile starts a nosedive.

"Wayne!"

The Batmobile crashes into the ocean. It's moments before the lights disappear under the dark water. The police cars in pursuit are still flying over the distant shore.


	6. The Present

The present.

Bruce leans on his cane, facing the smashed display case where his suit once stood. His grim face is taut with outrage.

A wider shot reveals the parked Batmobile, still dripping wet.

We hear Terry's voice over these shots: "Powers raided my dad's stuff, then denied he had anything to do with the murder. That was when I realized your suit was good for more than ransom money."

A pause. Bruce speaks without looking at him. "What did you learn?"

Some distance away, Terry touches his bruised and bound ribs. "Saw some messed up mutagen experiments. Figure you know more about it than I do."

"I haven't been in control of my family's company for years," Bruce says bitterly. "Powers forced me out ages ago." He turns around then. "How do you _know_ Powers was behind the break-in? Isn't it possible that someone else is after the same thing?"

Terry winces doubtfully. "That's what _Powers_ wants me to think."

Bruce limps back to the computer. He brings up footage of what Terry saw in the bottom of the chemical drum – Inque peering down at him. Freezing the image, he brings up what we saw at the beginning of the film – Chloe Clay transforming into Inque. This, too, is a frozen image.

"Her name was Chloe Clay." Bruce's aged hands close into fists. "I assumed the experiment killed her. I lost track of her after that night. But that thing you were fighting at Wayne-Powers… Why would she be there?"

Terry's eyes widen as it dawns on him. "Because Powers' illegal experiments made her into … _that_. But it's a little late for revenge, isn't it? This Chloe Clay thing was over twenty years ago."

They are both getting immersed in the mystery. "That was also when Powers began acting strangely – isolating himself, staying near water, forcing people to be 'cleaned' when they visit him. He knows Clay survived."

Terry nods slowly. "That thing _did_ seem to hate water."

They stare at the images for a moment. An awkward silence develops. They glance at each other, then glance away sourly. Bruce taps a few buttons at the computer. "I'll call you a cab."

"What are you going to do about Powers?" Terry demands. "And you're not sending me out like _this,_ either."

"Pray tell me what I did that makes you believe I owe you _anything,_ McGinnis."

"Slumlords and corrupt cops took over your city. Derek Powers took over your company and turned it into an illegal weapons plant. But, sorry. Somehow I got it into my head that Batman cared about things like that. My mistake." Terry pauses. "Or were you referring to why you can't spare a pair of goddamn pants?"

Cut to interior McGinnis apartment.

Terry walks in wearing nothing but boxer shorts.


	7. Things Get More Complicated

Terry walks in wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

The dog is barking, running up to him, and Mary isn't far behind.

"I don't even want to know," she says, after taking in her half-naked son. "I was going to ask why _your brother had to take the bus home_ , but I don't want to know. From now on you will either be here, at school, or picking up and dropping off Matt. Do you understand?"

"Fine," Terry mumbles. The dog is still barking.

"And you need to get rid of that animal."

Terry has been walking away. Now he freezes, looking back at his mother, angry. "What?"

"It made a huge mess, it's constantly barking, the neighbors are complaining, and I can't afford the extra rent and deposit. Get rid of the dog."

Terry marches toward his room. "If he's going, I'm going, too."

"Terry—"

The door slams between them. Mary looks exhausted. She gives up, walks away.

In the bedroom, Terry throws a few clothes on and sinks to the floor, staring at the mess of boxes in front of him. In a short montage, he rifles through the things, apparently looking for something, finding nothing. Finally, he throws himself back on the bed. He glances over. Batman's cape is lying beside him.

He rolls it up, stuffs it into a bag, and heads out.

Interior dance hall. Strobe lights and pulsing music. The place is dark, the crowd manic. Terry sits off to the side, his eyes probing the crowd. Finally seeing something, he presses forward.

"Dana!"

Dana turns around, and her expression goes cold.

Terry starts to say, "I've been trying to call you," but she interrupts.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"I'm sorry."

"Dad is right, you should just drop out of school. Why bother pretending you're ever going to do anything with your life? It's all a big joke, right? I'm just part of the joke!"

Terry fumes. "I said I'm sorry."

"I'm not your jailbait anymore," she sneers, turning to the boy at her side. "Come on, Nelson."

They melt into the crowd together. Terry stands with his back to the camera, fists knotted, motionless in the sea of dancers.

Exterior club. Terry approaches the dog, which is tied to a street lamp. Terry has just undone the leash when his phone rings. Looking at the screen, he sees a picture of his mother and rolls his eyes. After thinking for a moment, he picks up.

"Hello—"

Mary is sobbing. "Terry?"

Cut to interior McGinnis apartment. Mary has been roughed up. She and Matt are tied back to back on the floor, next to an overturned lamp. A gloved hand has been holding the phone up to Mary. Now we pull back to see a thuggish figure wearing a mask that completely conceals his identity, even disguising his voice.

Now _he_ speaks into the phone. "What does Derek Powers know?"

Cut back and forth from the apartment to the club.

Terry looks helpless, terrified. "What?"

"I have your mother and your brother at gunpoint. Better answer honestly. What does Derek Powers know?"

"I – I don't know! He asked if I found any of my dad's work stuff. He offered me money—"

"What did you tell him?" the thug demands.

"Nothing! I figured he was just trying to find out whether he had to kill me, too!"

Terry hears a gunshot. He flinches, starts screaming, "No!" The dog barks nervously. Terry is fighting tears. "Man, I promise, I don't know anything and neither does Powers! Just tell me what you want and I'll get it for you! Please!"

"One last chance to tell the truth," the thug growls.

"Oh, God, that's the truth. That's the whole truth."

There's a click. Terry looks at the phone. _CALL ENDED._ Still holding the leash, he breaks into a dead run.


	8. A Non-proposal

Cut to interior McGinnis apartment. Terry bursts through the door and lunges across the room. Matt and Mary are tied and gagged, but alive, under a blaster hole in the wall. They all cry in relief as Terry drops to his knees in front of them, hurrying to untie them. The family hugs fiercely.

"Did you call the police?" Mary sobs.

"No police," Terry says. "Powers has them in his pocket."

"What's going on?" she asks.

"I don't know."

Cut to exterior apartment building. The dog is in the back seat of the car. Terry, Matt, and Mary clamber in with a few hastily packed bags, and they speed away.

Interior Wayne Manor. Bruce sits alone in his demolished living room, looking at the damage Terry has left behind.

Interior hotel room. The place is rundown and definitely cheap. What's left of the McGinnis family, and the dog, burst in with their belongings. Terry closes the door, locks it, and has the dog lie down in front of it.

Interior Wayne Manor. Bruce moves slowly, painstakingly, trying to clean up the glass from a broken picture frame. It's an old family portrait: himself as a boy, his parents.

Interior hotel room. Mary is lying on her side, biting her nails, thinking pensively. Terry and Matt share the other bed. They are both on their backs, staring up at the ceiling while Matt flicks a flashlight on and off. A shot of the ceiling reveals that the flashlight is a toy bat signal.

Interior Wayne Manor. Bruce still holds the picture in one hand, but he's staring through an expansive window. We don't see much except the sky and a few dead trees. Time passes. Fade to Bruce sinking into his chair as the light of dawn creeps onto his tired face.

Bruce's POV: Across the overgrown estate, we can see the front gates. Terry, and his father's old car, and the dog are outside.

Time jump. Interior Wayne Manor. Terry is sitting across from Bruce. Both are quiet for some time, neither looking at each other.

"You were right," Terry says softly. "Powers didn't kill my dad."

"What was your father working on?"

"I wish I knew." Terry frowns. "You don't actually think he was involved in those experiments, do you? He was a lot of things, but—"

Bruce just gives him a skeptical look.

Terry falls silent again.

"Whatever they're making over there, they've been working on it for a long time. I should have stopped it years ago…" Bruce switches gears. "Now there's only so much I can do."

Terry shakes his head. "Unbelievable," he mutters.

"I'm an old man, McGinnis. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

Terry is looking at Bruce like he's stupid. "Sounds like we can help each other."

Bruce glares at him.

"Come on, I'm not asking you to marry me!" says Terry. "Just this once, let me help you save my family. And whoever else Derek Powers is planning on killing. I might be a punk who smashed up your stuff, but you don't want me to die. Right? You don't want anyone to die."

Bruce seems a little surprised by those words.

"That's who Batman is, right?"


	9. Obligatory Training Montage

Cut to Bruce striding (as well as he _can_ stride) into the Batcave. Terry trails behind him.

"There are rules. You will trust me at all times. Trust me with your _life._ Until this is finished, I will demand your all. No lethal force. No guns."

Terry protests. "What about self-defense?"

Bruce gives him a long, cold glare. His movements are subtle, but swift: the cane whacks Terry's left ear, then his right. While he is still reacting, the flat of the cane hits him across the forehead. There's a precise tap to the knee, and he goes down.

Standing over him, Bruce repeats himself slowly. "You will trust me at all times…"

Time jump. Terry stands in a small arena, his fists bound like a boxer in training. A holographic opponent leaps up behind him. He whirls and pops it in the face. It falls silently, and another opponent emerges, and another. Terry catches each of them before they can harm him.

"This is easy!" he crows. He strikes the last one blindly. Then he realizes it's a young girl.

Bruce is watching on the wall above him. "Self-discipline is _never_ easy."

Time jump. Terry is in the same arena, being pelted by sand bags.

"Shouldn't I be practicing in the suit?!" he demands.

Time jump. Same arena, but now he's in the suit. And facing laser blasts. They don't seem to be doing much damage, but they obviously sting.

Time jump. Bruce and Terry sit in front of the computer. Terry is still suited up, just unmasked. They're having tea.

Bruce has been sneering, "The cartoons would have you believe that you can just truss up the bad guys and drop them in jail. In reality—"

"The state has to respect _all_ legal rights of _all_ suspects," Terry interrupts, bored. "Supposedly. Everyone knows that. Hey. Do you mind if I check on the dog?"

Time jump. It's a serene moment. The dog has fallen asleep near Bruce's chair. Looking down at it, Bruce almost has a tender look on his face, but his expression hardens as he goes back to watching Terry sweep up the broken glass in front of the suit display.

"How much longer are we going to do this?" Terry asks presently.

"It would take years to adequately prepare you. We'll have to settle for honing your spying and sabotaging skills. And you'll need to be able to make a quick escape if you run into Chloe Clay again."

Terry shrugs indignantly. "I can fight."

Bruce just looks at him. Terry looks back, more indignant.

Time jump. Terry is back in the arena with the mask pulled over his face. A new holographic opponent materializes out of arm's reach: the original Batman, in the same suit. Terry not only looks ragged in his older, present-day suit, he's somewhat dwarfed in comparison to young Bruce.

The hologram throws a batarang. Terry tries to dodge it, but he's nicked. In that time, the hologram has cleared the distance between them and connects with a roundhouse kick. Terry lashes out, tries to go for the groin, but he's blocked. He fails to make a single punch. Every one of them is turned away or used against him. Finally, he finds himself on his back with a foot pressing down on his throat.

The hologram disappears, and Terry gasps for air.

"Spying and sabotage," Bruce repeats. "Don't try to fight anyone."

Time jump. Terry is freshly showered and pulling on his civilian clothes. He pauses for a second, surprised to see the dog sitting placidly while Bruce strokes its head. The old man has taken on a strangely gentle aspect. Still looking at the dog, Bruce asks, "What's his name?"

"Doesn't have one yet," Terry said. "I won him from a dog fighter. He's okay with people, though. People he trusts…"

The dog licks Bruce's hand. The faintest hint of a smile threatens to appear on Bruce's face.

Terry looks at them sideways for a moment. "You know, he's looking for a home."


	10. Everything Goes Wrong

_I'm sorry that updates are so sporadic, but I have been selling a novel for charity! You can learn more in my profile._

 _Fun fact: If you go to YouTube and type in "Batman Awakened, playlist" you can get an unofficial soundtrack for this unofficial movie. Wow! How amaze! Inorite!_

 _Thank you, everyone, for your encouragement._

Exterior shot of a glistening Wayne-Powers building. As the sun rapidly sinks, we see a momentary flash of bat wings. Terry, in the Batsuit, has come to a landing on the roof. He is gone as quickly as he appeared.

Interior building. A little later. We are looking down at Derek Powers traversing a hallway with a few bodyguards. As the camera follows him, we see Terry is following him also, creeping along the shadowy beams overhead.

They enter a work area where employees are loading canisters into crates. Another business man is reviewing some data. At the sight of Powers, he smiles and moves to greet him.

With a mixture of awe and dread, Bruce murmurs over the radio, "They're speaking Kasnian."

Softly, Terry whispers, "How can you tell?"

Terry's POV. As he gazes at Powers and the foreign businessman, we see blinking letters: TRANSLATE. The only bit of the conversation that's salvageable is, "—by tomorrow night." The men shake hands again, and Powers leads his guest back to the door he entered through. "Can I offer you anything?"

Shot of Terry watching them leave. Fade to: the same shot, later. It's dark. A different perspective reveals that the canisters are all packed up and everyone has gone home.

"Now," says Bruce.

Terry drops to the floor. He stalks around the room, looking for more details on what the gas is and where it's going. "What's Kasnia?" he whispers.

"A small country in Eastern Europe. If you watched the news, you'd know they've been having a civil war for upwards of four years. A military state versus a radical militia."

"Who are the good guys?"

"Are you asking who burns fewer villages?"

Terry freezes. Across the broad room, Inque is standing at a computer. The screen flashes: DOWNLOAD COMPLETE. She withdraws a transparent card and absorbs it into her hand.

Terry raises his voice. "Chloe Clay."

She twists around, a disturbing image, taking battle form. When her eye locks onto him, she grows a second pair of arms which flatten into blades.

Terry speaks gently. "That was your name, right?"

"Was."

She whips her arms, and the blade parts break off. Terry bends backward to avoid them, but one tears a deep gash in his side, exposing a red underlayer of suit. Inque surges toward him like a tide. In a second, her lost bits stretch back toward her, and as they reconnect, they seize Terry by the arms and legs from all sides.

"It's Inque now," she explains.

"Okay. Inque. Powers did this to you," Terry says. He struggles in vain. "He took your life away. He took something from me, too."

"Is that what you think, that I'm here for revenge? It's a small mind that thinks of revenge when you can have _information."_

He activates his rockets. Inque lets out an eerie scream as he blasts upward, but he hits the ceiling and lands awkwardly not far away. Another blade stretches toward his neck, pinning him against the wall. "Um, what kind of information?" he asks.

Inque almost sounds amused. "You're one of the _sidekicks_ , aren't you?"

Out of nowhere, a laser tears a hole in her body. More shots are fired as Terry and Inque spring away from each other. Terry takes a few hits, too, then takes cover. We can see smoking burns on his chest now. Another shot reveals high-powered security guards in the doorway.

Inque composes herself and picks up an enormous but empty steel barrel. She smashes it onto the canisters. They're damaged, but not broken. She raises the barrel again.

"Stop!" Terry shouts.

As Inque hurls the barrel down onto the canisters, she shoots toward the ceiling to disappear. The collision breaks the canisters open and releases a green gas.

Terry jumps out where the guards can see him. "Run!"

They aim at him. They hesitate. That green gas is burning away at the linoleum. They turn to flee – and the door is jammed. A brief shot shows Inque on the other side of the door, withdrawing nine long, ribbon-like fingers from the door's control pad.

Back in the room, both guards frantically radio for help. Terry runs toward them, holding his wounded side as the outer layer of his suit begins to melt off. "Hang onto me!" he says to the guards, and half-jumps, half-grapples to the beams stretching across the ceiling. He carries them to the passage he used to get in.

"That's not supposed to be here," says a guard.

"Yeah well this company was built by a nutjob," says Terry.

Cut to another room of canisters. These hold mutagen. Inque sets a homemade bomb to explode and slithers into a tiny air duct. BOOM.

Cut to the adjacent hallway. More armed guards are responding. They're repulsed by the shockwave, which takes out a few of them. Behind them, Inque takes feminine form. She pushes one intact mutagen canister out of her chest. She twists the lid and hurls it into the middle of the guards.

Terry runs around a corner, following the two guards he's saved. They all stagger to an abrupt stop. Reverse shot: Inque has disappeared. A yellow gas is filling the hallway. Coughing guards struggle to get away from it, but those in the thick of it are already collapsing with crisping, peeling skin. They seem to be losing their ability to move and breathe. "McGinnis," comes Bruce's voice.

Cut to interior Batcave. The dog is whining, picking up on the tension. The computer displays a Batsuit schematic, and the chest, ribs, and shoulders are highlighted in flashing red. There is a tint of fear and regret in Bruce's eyes, as if to ask, _What have I done?_ He barks, "You've taken hits. You may be exposed. Get out!"

Cut back to Terry. By his heavy breathing, we can see he's disturbed by the carnage, afraid of what he's about to do. "I can take more than they can!"

He runs into the cloud and reaches for the guards who are still moving. He throws one over his shoulder. Two grab onto his arms. The guards he's already saved seem inspired to follow suit, and they each drag someone away from the cloud. Their skin begins peeling.

They pause at an armored door. The cloud is creeping after them. "Open it!" Terry urges.

The door is unresponsive. A frustrated guard takes the butt of his gun to the control pad. Once it's thoroughly smashed, he takes a look at the wires. Black ooze drips from them. Leftover Inque.

Bruce ways, "It's nerve gas. You need to get to higher ground!"

Sounding like he needs assurance himself, Terry says, "Hang on. Everybody hang on."

He drops the dying guards and winds up. Hits the doors as hard as he can with a painful grunt. There's a slight dent. Next he winds up and kicks. Another slight dent.

The cloud has reached them. Now everyone but Terry is coughing, sweating. Some of the guards start throwing up. When they see their peeling skin, they scream. Those most exposed are seizing.

Terry attacks the doors more passionately. He breaks a few gadgets against it. "Explosives?" he asks Wayne.

"None with you," is the grim reply. "I'm looking for alternate exits!"

"Oh, God!" a guard wheezes. "I can't move!"

"Just hang on!" Terry panics.

Another guard grasps him by the wrist. His nose and eyes are leaking. With a look of desperation, he gasps, "Tomorrow night. They're shipping it out tomorrow night. It's too late… too late to save us… but wherever it's going, don't let it… don't let them use it…"

"I'm not leaving you here," says Terry, but his heroic and firm tone is tainted with fear.

"Please don't," the guard whimpers.

Wide shot. As the last man loses consciousness, Terry kneels beside him with a comforting hand on his shoulder.


	11. Everything Goes Wrong, Part II

Interior Batcave. Still in the suit, Terry stands in a transparent decontamination unit. He is a brooding, ebony statue in a wash of pale mist. Pushing out gently, we see Bruce, paler than usual and leaning on the controls for support. We can presume he's removing any trace of the gas.

Time jump. Terry removes the mask – we see his haunted expression – and places it into a compartment. It's whisked away. As the suit is placed into that compartment piece by piece, we see just how damaged it was by Inque and the green gas.

Time jump. Terry sits sideways on a gurney, now wearing civilian clothes, his hair still damp from decontamination. Bruce is testing his reflexes. Tersely, he asks, "Do you feel anything, _anything,_ like nausea or difficulty breathing?"

"No," Terry sighs.

Just as relieved as he is, Bruce moves away. He still seems to be having trouble standing. He wipes some sweat from his brow. The dog nudges him. It's still whining nervously.

"We have less than 24 hours to stop that gas from shipping," says Terry.

"I'll need a week to rebuild the suit," sighs Bruce. "Some parts aren't made anymore."

Terry is speechless. This is unacceptable.

Bruce begins, "The police can—"

"The police work for Powers!"

"There's at least one person we can trust," Bruce says cryptically.

Terry springs to his feet and marches into a different section of the cave. He finds a few spare masks.

"McGinnis," Bruce calls, breathing shallowly. The dog cries.

"I saw what that shit can do." Rifling through a dusty, cluttered work table, Terry finds a gauntlet. He hesitates. He's trying not to break down. "I watched them die…"

Bruce collapses into a chair. The dog licks his hand fervently. "Even I can't save everyone," he says. Then, grudgingly, almost tenderly, he murmurs, "You risked your life. That's the most that anyone…"

Back to Terry. He's regained his composure. He's thinking about it. Thinking maybe Bruce just complimented him. Curious, he turns to look back at the old man.

The chair topples over, and Bruce hits the floor, motionless.


	12. Resolve

Exterior hospital. Night. We are near the emergency room doors. We hear a growling, sputtering engine. Then a black vintage car squeals into the shot, rolling halfway onto the curb.

Terry bursts out of the driver's side and scrambles to the back seat. Medical personnel rush to aid him as he hauls Bruce out of the back seat.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, he just collapsed!"

"Was he doing anything strenuous?"

Bruce is secured on a gurney. His eyes flutter open briefly. "We have consciousness," someone says.

Terry pushes forward. "Who can we trust?" he asks. "Who's the one person?"

Bruce's eyes close again. Terry is nudged out of the way.

Exterior bridge, continuous. Its gothic arches loom against the rosy sky. Terry, looking drawn, watches the sun emerge warm and golden over the sea. He turns around to survey the cityscape. He nods to himself.

Cut to exterior Tan residence, continuous. Dana is lounging on the front step in some comfy pajamas. She holds a mug of coffee in both hands, enjoying the sunrise over the suburbs, when there's a sputtering sound, and she frowns a little as Terry pulls up in Bruce Wayne's car. Dana stands defensively.

As Terry parks and approaches her sheepishly, she sighs, "What is it this time, Terry?"

"I just wanted to talk."

"Did you steal this car?"

Terry glances back at the car with a stunned expression. He's only just realizing that, yes, he kind of stole this car.

Dana turns around to go inside. "Bye."

"I came to say I'm sorry," he blurted.

She hesitates.

"No excuses. I understand why you dumped me. I was never honest with you. Never let you in." Terry frowns. "But I want you to know that you're a really – great – you're energetic and fun and fierce, and… being around you made me feel like I was a better man than I am. You deserve better than me. _And_ Nelson Nash, by the way, please don't date him, but you can do whatever you want…" He gestures nervously. "And I'm gonna return this car."

Dana suppresses a smile. "Thanks, Ter."

Terry shifts his feet a little. He's growing cocky again. "How about a goodbye kiss?"

She laughs. "Are you serious?"

"Hey, I could die anytime. You never—" Mr. Tan emerges from the house. Terry does an about face. "Well, goodbye."


End file.
